


Fly Me To The Moon

by cyar1ka



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyar1ka/pseuds/cyar1ka
Summary: What was supposed to be an easy mission was anything but.
Relationships: Catfish Morales/Reader, Catfish Morales/You, Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Original Female Character(s), Francisco "Catfish" Morales & Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Original Female Character(s), Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You, Frankie Morales/You, frankie morales/reader
Kudos: 1





	Fly Me To The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Slow burn (really slow), ANGST (all the angst), language, violence

It was supposed to be a straightforward mission. A simple extraction for an asset, that was held hostage, on the edge of town. They were supposed to get them, make it back to the extraction point, and return to base, just in time for chow. But this was a time of war. And in times of war, there was no telling what could happen.

The chopper had dropped them off a few klicks from the outskirts of town, and they had to hoof it the rest of the way to stay undetected. The asset’s location was supposedly in one of the buildings, which one was unclear. It meant that the team would have to clear each building one by one to find where the asset was hidden. A task not easily done. Not when the area was crawling with insurgents ready to kill them at any given moment. Once they arrived at the perimeter of the town, they ducked for cover, Tom signaling to them to proceed with caution.

“Eyes up,” he spoke into the radio, as they saw several men with AK-47s strapped around their necks, walking back and forth on the rooftops. “Pope, Will, take out the two closest to us.” Two pops could be heard before the two bodies fell, with a silent thud.

“Tangos down,” Will spoke. Frankie felt a tap on his shoulder from Benny, and they began to move forward, staying low and moving from wall to wall stealthily. They made it to the first building without incident and Benny, Will, and Tom went in to clear it while Frankie and Pope kept their eyes peeled for any movement. The three men emerged after a moment, and they moved on to the next building and then the next, each one clear of any threats. However, the fourth building was where they ran into a problem.

The structure was crawling with men, a dozen or so from what they could tell. Nothing the Delta team could not handle. Frankie, Pope, and Will went in, rifles up, eyes bearing down the sights, as they each took down target after target, searching the building for the asset. After clearing several rooms, they finally found him, bound to a chair, and gagged, covered in blood. Frankie and Pope took watch at the entryway, while Will cut the man free before slinging his arm under the bloody man and guiding him out the door. Pope took point while Will trailed behind him, supporting the man’s weight, while Frankie covered the rear. They were just about to make it out of the building when they heard a whiz of bullets and Tom shout into the walkies.

“Tangos inbound!” They made it down the stairwell and out the door when they were greeted by a barrage of bullets hitting the surrounding walls. Pope and Frankie returned fire, hitting several men, while Benny ran over to help Will carry the asset. Tom provided covering fire for them as they got behind a broken wall, Frankie and Pope following close behind. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw a young man, who could not have been more than eighteen, pop up around the corner, gun trained on Pope’s back. Frankie had a split second before he heard the gunfire, and without thinking, he pushed Pope down onto the ground. Frankie returned fire at the young man and watched as his bullets lodged themselves square in the man’s chest. Blood poured from his mouth as Frankie watched his body fall limply to the ground.

“This is Charlie Echo, requesting immediate exfil!” Tom shouted. Gunfire blazed around them, hailing down bullet after bullet. Several whizzed above Tom’s head, a few lodged themselves in the wall covering Benny and Will, as Frankie and Pope took cover by a wall adjacent to them, bullets missing them by inches.

“Are you at the extraction point?” replied a voice over the radio.

“Negative! We have the asset but are under heavy enemy fire!”

“Copy that Charlie Echo. Can you make it to the extraction point?”

“Negative, sir. The asset is badly injured, and we are unable to make it to exfil! How copy?!”

“Charlie Echo, exfil team is en route. ETA ten minutes.”

“10-4, command, awaiting extraction team,” Tom answered before he looked at his men. “Exfil is on the way! We’ll have to hold out until then!”

The team nodded and continued to return fire at their assailants, taking each of them out one by one. Ten minutes later they heard a helicopter inbound, the whirring sound of the blades filling the air. Several men dropped from the helicopter and ran over to Will and Benny, taking the injured asset from them. The extraction team on the ground provided covering fire as well as two more from the chopper. Tom and his team sprinted to the helicopter as it hovered several feet off the ground and boarded, followed closely by the exfiltration team. One of the men signaled to the pilot that they were all on board and the helicopter began to ascend. As it flew over the buildings, it made a wide arc, changing course to travel back to base. They heard bullets hitting the bottom of the bird, _tink tink tink,_ as each round bounced off, unable to penetrate the armor on the underside of the chopper. Tom and his team picked off as many targets as they could from the opening before they were too far away for their bullets to do any damage.

* * *

The group let out a breath of relief as they assessed the damage, and Pope’s eyes widened as he looked at Frankie.

“Fish!” he called out, pointing at Frankie. He glanced down and saw red painting his uniform on his right shoulder. Frankie began to feel a sting that morphed into a burning sensation, and he started to feel lightheaded. His body grew hot, his vision blurring. It felt like a sledgehammer had hit him right in the shoulder, and he felt a surge of pain course through his arm and up to his neck.

“Fuck,” he grunted, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He had lost quite a bit of blood and his arm felt like a limp fish, unable to move without discomfort running through his appendage. He felt Pope’s fingers dig into his shoulder and he let out a groan of agony, feeling the other man’s digits burrowing through his flesh, checking for a bullet that might have been lodged inside.

“It’s a clean through and through, Fish!” Santi shouted over the loud whir of the rotors, as he withdrew his fingers, now coated in Frankie’s blood. Frankie felt a searing pain in his shoulder and then numbness, Pope had injected him with morphine. He watched as his friend tore a packet open with his mouth and pepper the powder onto the openings of the wound. A blood-clotting agent. Pope then pulled out a bandage and gauze from his pack and pressed it up against Frankie’s shoulder, applying pressure.

“Hold it there until we get to base!” Pope shouted as he pulled Frankie’s hand up to hold the bandage up. Fish nodded, but his vision began to tunnel, the voice of his friends suddenly sounded far away, and his head began to loll to the side.

“Fish! Fish! Stay with me, man!” Santiago shouted as he slapped Frankie’s cheek. He struggled to keep his eyes open, head falling forward before he slumped against the seat and his vision went black.


End file.
